


Fireside Tales

by DawnsEternalLight



Series: Comfortember 2020 [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Campfire, Dick Grayson - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, Ghost Stories, S'mores, a tiny bit of angst if you squint hard, he's there right at the end, this really is just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27927922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: When Jason, Tim, and Damian end up only slightly-marooned they pass the time while they wait for rescue by telling ghost stories around a campfire.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Comfortember 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000227
Comments: 13
Kudos: 194





	Fireside Tales

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lulaypp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulaypp/gifts).



> I know we're beyond November, but I have a couple requests left I want to fill from Comfortember, and this is one! Thank you to everyone who provided spooky stories for inspiration for this one <3
> 
> Fori I hope you enjoy it <3
> 
> For the prompt: Campfire

“On the count of three we lift and Damian you see if that stupid box is under this one.” Jason said, as he adjusted his grip on the scrap metal that had been the Batboat’s left, or maybe right side. 

Next to him, Tim was equally braced to lift the hefty chunk of metal. He nodded at Jason’s look. 

“One, two, lift!” Jason said, and he and Tim lifted the scrap up as high as they could. 

Damian shone his flashlight below it for a moment before, “It is there! Do not drop the boat on me.” 

He crouched and darted below the heap to grab at something. After a long moment that had even Jason’s arms straining, Damian popped back out, carrying a large plastic box pressed to his chest. 

Together, Tim and Jason dropped their load. It crashed into the sand with less a boom and more a wet thump followed by a spray of sand that coated all of them and had both Tim and Damian spluttering. 

“That--eugh-- was not the best idea.” Tim said, brushing his hand across his face and frowning. 

Damian, his arms heavy with their prize instead turned to spit into the sand, “Indeed.” 

“We got what we wanted, and that’s all that matters.” Jason said, “Here, Dames, I’ll take that, and we can see if there’s anything good inside. I’m sure Mr. I-Am-Always-Prepared at least packed a lighter.” 

“Tt, it had better contain more than a lighter, this box is heavy.” Damian told him, before allowing Jason to take said heavy box. 

It did indeed have some heft to it, and Jason was proud that Damian had managed to grab the box and haul it out of there so fast. The moment the box was out of the boy’s hands, he rubbed at his face, attempting to dislodge remaining wet sand with a scowl. 

“You guys look in the box, I’m going to try to get Batman or Oracle again, radio silence or not, someone had to have reported that firefight back there.” Tim said, and waved them off as he stepped away to try comms. 

Firefight was probably the best wording for it. Absolute catastrophe was good too. Even Jason hadn’t expected the boat to get shot at with that second rocket launcher. They’d dodged, and it had missed enough of the boat all three were somehow fine even if the boat was trashed.

Dumb luck had them close enough to this island --no  _ rock _ \-- that they and the boat had washed up on it waterlogged, but alive. 

“Do you think Father will send someone to pick us up or make us wait until the mission is over?” Damian asked, as he and Jason crouched by the supplies box. 

It was a smooth plastic thing, waterproof, and secured with a metal latch. Jason flicked it open and lifted the lid on the container.

“Probably the second. We’re fine and out of danger’s way. The smuggler’s aren’t going to be coming back this route even if B somehow misses them. So while we wait let’s get a fire started to dry out with, and pray there’s some--Yes!” he cheered.

Inside the container was not only a lighter, but some folded thermal blankets, a miniature fire starting kit, water, a basic first aid kit, and luck of all luck, snacks. Well power bars, but someone (probably Alfred) had smuggled in honest to goodness marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers.

“S’mores.” Jason sighed, happily, “The only thing that could have salvaged this night. Alfred, I know you can’t hear me, but bless you.” 

Damian wrinkled his nose at the treats, but moved to pull the blankets out, “There are two. We could either wrap up in them, or use them to sit on. It does not look like there is a tarp below them.” the last words were added with a little disappointment. 

“Tarps were under the seats on the boat” Jason said, remembering, “Let’s find some big rocks and you boys can use the blankets.”

“What about you?” Damian asked.

“I’ve got my jacket, plus we’ll have the fire. I won’t freeze.”

“Tt, I am sure Timothy and I are capable of sharing. You take one and we will use the other.”

Jason grinned at that, not that Damian could see it with his helmet still on his face, “Aww, Baby Bat is going to share--” he turned to call after Tim, “Here that Timmers! Dames wants to snuggle!”

Tim waved an annoyed hand at him in a motion that could only be translated as “Shut up, Jason, I’m busy.”

“I will end you, here and now,  _ Todd _ .” Damian hissed, “This has nothing to do with snuggling, it is a simple fact.”

“I’m just teasing you, don’t worry. I get it, once we stop moving and sit down we’re all going to feel the chill. Now stop whining and help me find a dry spot on this rock to set up a fire.” 

From the little exploration they’d done --and some quick googling on Tim’s part-- they’d learned that the three of them had washed up on one of Gotham’s many failed projects. This was originally supposed to be the site of a small resort. A place to get away from the crazy of Gotham, but not go too far. Whoever had wanted to create the spot had actually been building a man made island on the ruins of one of Ivy’s old attacks. Jason guessed the guy had been trying to save money pouring a bunch of sand into a spot with a raised lump of plant matter, but he’d still run out of money after managing to form what could graciously be called an island but was little more than half a mile wide stretch of sand. It was a rock, an empty stupid rock. 

Still, it wasn’t the worst place to wash up on and have to wait out a Bat mission that was now down 3 vigilantes. 

While he and Damian located a scrap of dry sand they could build their fire on, Tim returned. 

“I finally got Oracle on the line. She’s going to let Alfred and Bruce know where we are, but she said we’ve got a wait on our hands.”

“Figured as much.” Jason nodded, “Well, let’s get settled in. A fire and s’mores will do us good.”

“S’mores?” Tim’s face brightened, “I thought Alfred was joking when he said he’d pack some supplies for that.” 

Soon enough all three were huddled around the fire, sitting on rocks big enough to keep their pants from being covered in sand, and toasting marshmallows on somewhat questionable sticks Tim had eagerly found. Jason had already wrapped up in his blanket, while Tim and Damian had elected to throw theirs over their laps so they didn’t have to snuggle. Yet.

It was nice, peaceful even. 

So Jason decided the perfect addition to their wild night was a round of ghost stories. 

“You know what the best thing to go with fire and s’mores is?” Jason asked, breaking the silence. 

“What?” Tim asked, turning his marshmallow in the flames. 

“Ghost stories.” 

Damian raised an eyebrow at him, “And how is that entertaining?” 

Jason rolled his eyes, “It’s what you do, Squirt. Campfires and ghost stories are a staple of childhood, and you need to check this one off your list.” 

Damian huffed, then shrugged, “Richard would be pleased to hear about it.” 

Jason clapped his hands together awkwardly around the stick he’d been holding, “Alright then, Tim, you start.” 

Tim told the story of a creepy house he’d visited once, with creaking doors and windows that slammed themselves shut with no one close by. Damian made an effort at telling one about some ghost’s he’d run into in China, and honestly? Jason thought it might have been less made up and more real than anything. 

When it was Jason’s turn he leaned forward, elbows on his legs and eyed both his brothers, “Have you guys ever heard the story of the haunting of old Roberts Hill?” 

Tim groaned, “Not this one, come one Jay, we’re not kids.”

“You might not be, but Dames is.” 

Damian’s shoulders straightened, “I am not a--”

“Child, I know.” Jason said, “But you are twelve, and  _ have _ you heard of the haunting of old Roberts Hill?” 

Under his breath Jason heard Tim muttering, “Please say yes, please say yes, please--”

He didn’t even bother to hide his toothy grin as he pulled his now flaming marshmallow out of the fire to blow it out.

“No.” Damian hedged, looking between the two of them, obviously uncertain of who he should cater his answer to. 

Tim groaned. 

Jason cheered. 

“Alright, then the story goes like this.” Jason started, “Actually hold on, I’m going to put this s’more together.” 

“Jaaason.” Tim whined, “Just tell it.” 

Jason finished making his s’more and asked, “What, are you scared, Timbo?” 

“Tt, I am sure it is just a dull story.” Damian huffed, while pressing his own lightly toasted marshmallow into chocolate. 

“You haven’t seen old Roberts.” Tim hissed, “He’s real.” 

Now this, Jason hadn’t heard, “Real?” he raised an eyebrow, “Do tell.”

Tim shook his head, “It’s your story.”

“Fine, after then.” Jason agreed. 

He settled back on his rock, s’more in hand and looked over his younger brothers, already letting the silence grow between them, building tension. Tim’s outburst had done more to set Damian on edge than anything Jason could have done, and he’d have to thank him for it later. The stage was perfectly set for him to scare the pants off not just one, but both baby brothers. 

“Alright, so Old Roberts Hill isn’t a hill, contrary to popular belief. It used to be a hill they bulldozed to build an old factory on it. Now, Jason you say, isn’t Gotham full of dumb old factories, what’s so special about this one? Yes, I’d say, but the important thing is that Old Roberts himself used to live on this hill, and he’d promised the land to his sons, and grandsons, and great grandsons after him.” 

Jason paused mostly to take a bite of his s’more, but also to gauge his brother’s interest. Tim was already all eyes on him, and Damian was looking wary, unsure of where this story was going beyond the obvious. 

“Roberts’ stipulation was that his family live on the land. And for a time they did. Then his grandson, grown and with little memory of the man, grew old enough to get ideas and money. Enough money he wanted to set up a factory. So he tore down the house and flattened the land, because you can’t have a factory on a hill, it’s just not practical.” 

Jason shifted a bit, took another bite of his s’more and continued, “Now for a couple years things went smooth for Roberts the second. He spent so much time in that old factory he could have easily been considered living in it, but as things became profitable and he spent less and less time there. That’s when it all started to go downhill.” 

He looked at his brothers again, waiting to see if either might pick up on his tiny little hill joke, but both were holding s’mores still half eaten, and not smiling. 

“The problems started small. A snapped belt here, broken floorboard there. Gradually escalating over time, to full machines breaking down, fires, and the power being so infrequent the factory was more often closed than open. There were also the reportings of the ghost. 

A ghoul haunted the halls of the factory, a screaming face in gears, a lurking figure in dark corners and the cold breath on the back of your neck--” a breeze tickled through their hair just as he said the last bit and Jason saw Damian’s eyes widen just a bit. Tim’s cracker snapped in his palm. 

“Staff quit in droves until the whole thing came crashing around dear old Roberts’ head. He lost everything.”

Jason leaned forward, “In the end he was the only one left, despite him begging all his workers to come back. Eventually even Roberts couldn’t keep the place up, and one day he just disappeared. ” 

“Tt, it is as I said. Dull.” Damian said, sitting back to take a bite of his s’more. 

“That’s not the end.” Tim said, “That’s all window dressing.” 

“Taking over for me, Timmers?” 

His brother shot him a look, “I  _ told _ you. I saw him. Back when I was just a kid--”

Jason bit back a quip that he was still just a kid and let his younger brother continue. 

“You guys know I used to explore Gotham and follow Batman and Robin with my camera.” Tim looked between them. 

Damian tried to seem uninterested as he finished off his s’more, but he was looking more at Tim than the treat and leaning forward just a bit. It was cute that he thought he was fooling anyone, and it’d be even better when eventually something scared him. 

Jason considered building the story for a moment, then realized Tim would do all that for him. So he set his mind to deciding just how to scare the pants off Damian and Tim if he were lucky. That’s when he, being the only one facing westward, caught sight of a dark figure in the sky slowly approaching their little island. Perfect. 

“Back when you were my biggest fan.” Jason grinned. 

Tim threw a marshmallow at him, and Jason ducked chuckling. 

“Anyway. I found myself down by old Roberts Hill one of those nights. You guys had been following some gangsters for a month and were closing in. Even they weren’t dumb enough to use the old factory, but I had to pass by it and--” 

He stopped and shuddered, like a chill had run up his back, “I saw him. Old Roberts himself came stumbling out of the building, a frantic figure wailing and crying and yelling for help. His skin was washed out and I  _ swear _ I could see right through him.” 

Damian opened his mouth to retort but Jason interrupted. The plane had landed and at last there was a figure making their way towards them. 

“That’s the thing, isn’t it.” he said, leaning towards them both, he let the silence stretch again, just for a bit. 

“See Roberts and his grandfather’s ghosts are still out there. Roberts begging anyone and anyone to please help him get the old factory started again, and his grandfather screaming to scare them off. Sometimes though, he doesn’t just beg.” 

Nightwing, because that’s who Bruce had apparently sent, had reached them and caught on, dropping into a quiet crouch. 

“He’ll try to trick you, and in some cases, if you get close enough or are found to be idly lingering by, he’ll snatch you up and drag you into the factory to work forever by his side.” 

Dick was tiptoeing over, not that he needed to both Tim and Damian were enthralled. Tim in his own memories, Damian in this new information.

“Tim’s seen him, and he’s lucky he made it out alive. But we’d better be careful. Sometimes he’s known to follow people who’ve seen him, and we? We’ll can't we be counted as skipping out on a good night’s work sitting here, eating s’mores and telling stories?” 

“Yes. Good little boys would be out helping their father and brother take down bad criminals.” Dick said, his voice deep and gravley, as he put hands on both Damian and Tim’s shoulders. 

Damian and Tim both yelled, jumping up and back. Dick also yelped and jumped back himself, his hand going to his arm. At the same time, the thermal blanket went tumbling into the fire and went up immediately, catching fire. 

Tim started yelling, and Jason could hear Damian’s high pitched voice berating Dick as he attempted to vault over his stump, and instead caught his foot on it to go tumbling forward. 

Jason threw his own blanket back so it wouldn’t catch, dragged the burning one from the fire by a not yet burning corner and started kicking sand over it. 

“Help me with this and stop yelling.” Jason told Tim. 

His brother latched onto being able to do something and soon they’d snuffed the fire.

Jason looked up to see Dick and Damian crouched, where Dick must have caught the kid, only instead of worrying over Damian, the boy seemed to be fretting over Dick.

“Richard! You should not have snuck up on us like that!” Damian hissed. 

“Well at least I didn’t  _ stab _ you.” Dick retorted, sounding a bit miffed himself. 

That’s when Jason saw the gash in Dick’s uniform on his bicep. Whatever blade Damian had thrown seemed to have only nicked him, since he didn’t seem to be bleeding too badly. Still that’s what Jason could tell through Damian’s hand’s practically hovering over the site. 

He took the few steps needed to close the distance and grinned at Dick, “I don’t think he stabbed you. And really, spooking an assassin baby in the middle of ghost stories? Dick you should have known better,” 

“Me! You had them ready to bolt. I just took advantage of the situation.” 

“Richard!” Damian was outraged, “You did that on purpose?” 

“Damian  _ should  _ have stabbed you for that, you guys are the worst.” Tim pouted, “Think Bruce’ll be mad we burned one of the blankets?” 

Jason chuckled, and tugged Tim into a half hug, “I’m glad to know your priorities are in the right place. If he is, we’ll blame it on Dick.”

“I came to rescue you three, you know that right?” Dick said, looking like he was ready to get up to defend his honor, but a glare from Damian as he was already patching up the scratch kept him firmly planted. Not unlike a threatening cat. 

“And what do I get for my selfless act? Blame and injury!” He raised his good arm. 

Damian ducked his head, and finished with the bandage before scooting back. 

“Alright.” Jason soothed, not wanting Damian to be legitimately upset by the whole thing, “I’ll admit things got out of hand. You’re not badly hurt, and we are thankful you came.” 

“Plus,” Tim mused, “It was pretty funny to see Damian jump like that.” 

“I will end you, Drake.” Damian pointed a finger, all guilt over attacking Dick gone in the wake of defending himself, “Besides, I was not the only one who jumped.” 

“No but you did almost end your favorite--” Tim didn’t finish the sentence as Damian bolted at him. 

It was like something out of a Saturday morning cartoon watching the two of them run around the beach, and Jason wasn’t really inclined to stop it. As long as no one was maimed or died, he thought it might be good to let them get some of their energy out. 

“You alright?” he asked, Dick.

His older brother shrugged, “I’m fine. Though don’t tell Damian that. I want to milk this for all I can later, maybe I can even get him to snuggle on the couch as pennince.” 

Jason snorted, “I’m sure he’ll do that regardless.” he glanced at Tim and Damian still chasing each other, “You want to break them up? Or should we get into the plane and leave them just to see their reaction at being left behind?” 

“Leaving might rile them up more. We’d better break up the fight before one or both lose a limb.” 

Jason sighed, “Responsible choice it is then. You get Dames, I’ll get Tim.” 

It was surprisingly easy to break them up, all that really needed to happen was Jason getting between Damian and Tim long enough for Dick to scoop Damian up and haul him off. They stayed in their pairs as they doused the fire and cleaned up, with Dick snagging a s’more of his own before they could put out the fire claiming it was only fair after he’d come all the way out to pick them up. 

And then, at last, they were in the Batplane and heading home. Jason had been right in thinking Tim and Damian would wear themselves out with the chase. No sooner than they were in the sky than both boys nodded off, heads leaned together as if they were the best of friends. 

Jason leaned back in his seat and glanced at Dick, “Thanks for playing along with the ghost story, almost-stabbing and all.” 

Dick grinned, “You kidding? That was the best. We never get to spook them like that.” 

“Haha, too true. We should do it more often.”

“Is that an offer for brotherly bonding time I hear from you?” Dick grinned, “Maybe you three should get marooned on a tiny island more often.”

“It’s not that.” Jason waved him off, “It’s that those two are in dire need of proper big brother teasing, and we make a good team. That’s all.”

“Right.” Dick said, still smiling, “Of course.”

Jason rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He was right of course, Damian and Tim deserved to be teased like normal kids, and maybe Jason liked the idea of spending more time with Dick again. Not that he’d admit that of course. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 


End file.
